Bittersweet Cookies
by acacia59601
Summary: "Sugar cookies?" Peter said simply. Lucy nodded, "Sugar cookies". Some traditions will always continue no matter where the Pevensies are. Gift fic for The Quill Danced, as part of the NFFR Secret Santa.


Christmas was always Lucy's favorite time of year in Narnia. She loved everything about it, from the garlands on the mantel, to the castle being filled with guests, to the six enormous Christmas trees that lined the Great Hall. Father Christmas would show up every year with gifts and she knew that while she slept, Peter would wait up for the older man and they would share a glass of wine to ring in the season.

Christmas in England was still her favorite season, but it had become bittersweet. Instead of fauns dancing in the snow around a campfire in the lawn of Cair Paravel, there were automobiles driving down the street outside her house. Instead of a glorious feast, there would be a rather scrawny chicken and wilted vegetables taking center stage.

The only things that seemed to stay the same were the sugar cookies. Every year in Narnia the four children would invade the Cair Paravel kitchens to bake sugar cookies together. Susan was the one who could remember the recipe and the boys would take turns beating the batter smooth. Lucy was in charge of the cookie cutters. The first year they had to teach the Narnians about cookie cutters and within a few hours of explaining what they wanted, several dwarven metalworkers had a star, bear, pig, owl, tree and of course, a lion cookie cutter ready for use.

This year would be different. Lucy was all alone baking this year since she was the only one who seemed to have the time. Susan was off helping a friend set up for a party, Edmund was out shoveling the walks up and down the block as a courtesy to the elderly neighbors, and Peter wasn't expected home from university until later that night.

The Pevensie family had saved their ration stamps for months in order to have the necessary butter, sugar, and flour for the extravagant cookies, but it was always considered to be worth it. Lucy couldn't help but heave a wistful sigh for the abundant ingredients that could be found in the kitchens of the Cair, once the first year of recovering from the hundred years of winter was over and the land yielded up its bounty for the first time in a century.

Apron firmly wrapped around her waist, Lucy searched high and low through every cook book that the family had looking for the recipe, to no avail. "Oh, for goodness sake," she muttered. "It's got to be here somewhere." Then she nearly flung the cookbook across the room when she remembered that their mother had always baked their cookies from memory, as did Susan. Lucy could vaguely remember the ingredients but not how much of each was required.

A single tear of frustration seeped from Lucy's eye as she sat down in the empty kitchen and wished with every fabric of her being that she was back _home _in Narnia, where she belonged, where they all belonged. It looked like there would be no cookies this year after all.

She could hear the sound of the door opening then closing and she guessed that it would be her father coming home from a shift at the hospital. She knew that she should get up and greet him, but she couldn't bring herself to move. He would want to know why she was upset and she didn't feel like trying to explain. To her surprise, she felt a hand gently fall on her shoulder.

Susan had quietly entered the kitchen and was softly rubbing Lucy's shoulder with one hand, and reaching for an apron with the other. No words were spoken, but Lucy got back to her feet with a watery smile. The two girls fell into the rhythm that they had practiced for over a decade, Susan measuring and Lucy making sure that Susan had all the ingredients and bowls ready at hand.

Lucy paused for a second. Something was missing. She looked around the table; bowls, measuring cups, flour, sugar, vanilla...

The door opened again, and a soft blast of cold air sent the flour on the counter swirling. Edmund and Peter, who had apparently taken an early train, came in stomping their feet and shedding coats. With a squeal of glee Lucy abandoned her cookies and ran to give her eldest brother a hug.

Peter looked into the kitchen, giving Susan a smile of greeting. Then he looked back down at Lucy, and said simply, "Sugar cookies?"

She nodded, "Sugar cookies."

The two young men shared a knowing glance and after shedding their snowy boots, made their way into the kitchen. Peter took the mixing bowl from Susan and got to work. Edmund was at the oven, turning knobs and arranging the cookie sheets, then carefully putting his hand in the oven to test the temperature.

Few words were spoken, but the silence spoke volumes. _ I miss Narnia. I miss Aslan. Christmas just isn't the same here. _

The mood in the kitchen started out somber and almost bittersweet. But as each exiled monarch did their part as they had every year before, the atmosphere lightened. Their minds turned to more happy thoughts. _We still need to put up the Christmas tree and now we can do it as a family. Aslan said that he has a different name in our world... I wonder if that name is the one I think it is? I wonder if they still make sugar cookies in Narnia? I would hate for the recipe to be lost forever there. We're here and not there, but we're still together. _

Even though they all baked in silence, glances would pass between them, and the same thought passed through their minds one by one. _We're here and not there, but we're still together. _

With that thought providing comfort, when the last batch was pulled out of the oven and each of them had a cookie in hand, somehow Narnia didn't seem that far away. Lucy looked around the kitchen at her siblings and suddenly the cookies that she had originally found bittersweet, melted in her mouth like Narnian snowflakes.


End file.
